O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours with Time's deformed hand Have written strange defeatures in my face. But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?

Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.

O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others!

Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster.

Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.

We are ready to try our fortunes to the last man.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.